In the midst came the
announcement of dinner, during which meal they refrained themselves,
and tried to discuss other things, though not so successfully but
that it was reported in the kitchen that something was up.
Joseph was just old enough for his mother, who had always dreaded his
marriage, to have begun to wish for it, though she had never yet seen
her ideal daughter-in-law, and the enforced silence during the meal
only made her more eager, so that she began at once as soon as they
were alone.
"When did you begin to think of this, Joe?"
"Not when I asked you to invite her-—that would have been
treacherous. No, but when I began to realise what it would be to
send her back to her treadmill; though the beauty of it is that she
never seems to realise that it is a treadmill."
"She might now, though I tried so hard not to spoil her. It is that
content with such a life which makes me think that in her you may
have something more worth than the portion, which-—which I suppose I
ought to regret and say you will miss."
"I shall get all that plentifully from Robert, mother."
"I am afraid it does entail harder work on you, and later on in life,
than if you had chosen a person with something of her own."
"Something of her own? Her own, indeed! Mother, she has that of her
own which is the very thing to help and inspire me to make a name,
and work out an idea, worth far more than any pounds, shillings, and
pence, or even houses or lands I might get with a serene and solemn
dame, even with clear notions as to those same L.
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